Chapter Fourteen: The Red Lion

Pang Xi spread maps out across his desk in his study and stroked his chin as he contemplated the various trade routes to the south. He organized the trade caravan to the southern provinces every quarter but was always careful to vary the route to avoid bandits. He carried rare spices and perfumes from India, precious herbs and medicinal ingredients, secret shipments of opium, fine wines, and even common soybeans and rice. As he traveled southwards, he would pick up silks, pottery, honey, and even books. He moved with his own private military force for security, usually with heavily loaded wagons pulled by oxen. Sometimes he commissioned boats to carry shipments along the coast or up the riverways, but he found water travel to be riskier than land. He traced his finger along an imaginary line between the towns and cities he would like to visit and made some quick notes on the scroll beside him.

Although he was known to be "the richest man in Blossom City," Pang's mansion was almost spartan in its modest decor. He felt no need to flaunt his wealth, and he hated entertaining nosy visitors. If a stranger entered the manor, he would think that Pang Xi was merely a businessman. He enjoyed only a few simple pleasures in life. The Persian rug that decorated the center of the hall, the finest wine in the world, and as much privacy and solitude as he could afford. 

A servant entered, and dared to interrupt that precious solitude. The old man, who had been his head housekeeper for a decade, bowed, "Master, a visitor has arrived and is requesting an audience."

Pang looked outside with a frown. It was already growing dark. What kind of visitor would arrive so late? "Tell them to come back in the morning," he said shortly, dipping his brush in the ink to continue his work.

"Apologies, but it's Lord Shizi." the servant said nervously, staring down at the floor.

Pang paused and laid the brush down. "Shizi you say? Well, that is a different matter, show him in." The servant bowed again and hurried to go back to the gate and escort the visitor over to the main hall. 

Lord Shizi entered, a giant of a man, seemingly larger than life. When he spoke, his voice boomed loudly through the building. "Pang Xi! Were you going to leave me waiting at the gate all night?" Apart from his size, Shizi sported a head of long red-brown hair that seemed untamable, floating around his head in a frizzy cloud. The hairs of his eyebrows were also long and red, as was the full beard that sprouted from his chin. 

Pang smiled mildly and clasped his hands in front of his chest respectfully. "Of course not, old friend. Come, have a seat, I've already called for tea."

Shizi sat, throwing his robes out behind him. His weathered face always seemed to have a slightly irritated expression, even when he was content. His black eyes were sharp and cold, and his teeth seemed a little too large for his mouth. A maid appeared and attempted to pour the tea, but the big man waved her away with a gesture of his massive paw. "What am I, a schoolboy? Bring out the wine Pang, and it better be the good stuff."

The maid looked uncertainly toward her master, but Pang Xi merely nodded, giving her silent permission to bring out a bottle from his private stock. Although he remained calm and composed, Pang was cautious. Lord Shizi was not a man anyone wanted to annoy. "Now tell me, Lord Shizi, what brings you to my humble home? I thought you were living in the Imperial palace these days."

Shizi threw back his head and laughed, the sound rumbling from his chest like thunder. "Did you know I was named chief advisor to the crown prince? And don't think that's a pleasant and easy job! Wang Hua is as stubborn and dense as a donkey."

Pang Xi stroked his beard and said nothing. He knew the inherent dangers of imperial politics, and he did his best to steer clear of those complications. However, one did not earn the title of the Richest Man without having ties to the imperial palace, whether he liked it or not. He remained silent until the maid returned with the bottle of wine and two small carved jade cups. She set them on the table and bowed before backing away.

Pang broke the seal on the wine and poured out two cups, twisting the head of the bottle as he finished so as not to spill a drop of the expensive alcohol. He pushed one cup across the table to the red-haired man, who had earned the apt nickname of The Red Lion for both his appearance and his ferocity. Lord Shizi grasped the cup with both of his hands and tipped it back into his mouth with a satisfied grunt. Pang immediately refilled the cup. Shizi wiped the back of his hand across his mouth before he spoke. "I've come because I heard a rumor."

"Which rumor is that?" Pang took only a sip of his wine. Successfully trading in goods meant that he also had to trade in rumors, the tell-tale signs of which way the winds would blow, allowing him to determine when best to buy or to sell, when best to increase his prices or to offer discounts. The market forever fluctuated along with the whims and insecurities of his customers and it served him well to be in the know. Rumors were nothing new to him. 

"I have heard that the White Dragon has returned." 

Pang swallowed and set the cup down carefully. "That's impossible," he muttered. "How could he escape? All the portals were sealed…" Of all the gossip he had kept his ear to the ground for, that news should certainly not have escaped his attention. Perhaps he had not been paying his informants enough. Or perhaps he simply needed more. 

"The 'how' is irrelevant now, it only matters that he did." Lord Shizi brought his massive fist down on the table, causing the bottle to rattle and wine to slosh out of Pang's cup. "That old serpent must not be allowed to meddle in our plans, not now, not when we are so close to taking the throne." 

Pang frowned first over the spilled wine and then over the word "we". He preferred not to be associated with any of Lord Shizi's plans and manipulations. He would have not liked to be associated with Shizi at all, but he had pledged himself to the Lord a long time ago, back when he was young, foolish, poor, and impulsive. Unfortunately there had been no way to back out of this allegiance: he owed a great deal of his wealth to the man before him. "What shall we do then?" 

"There is only one thing to do. The White Dragon must be found and killed so that we will be rid of him once and for all."

"But the White Dragon is immortal, how can he be killed?" Pang Xi picked up his cup again, feeling a sudden need to fortify himself with the strong drink.

"Just because the old snake doesn't age, doesn't mean he can't be killed." Lord Shizi reached into his robe and removed a rice paper scroll. He unrolled it and laid it on the table before Pang Xi. The paper was old, yellowed, and stained, and beginning to crumble along the edges. It was a rather strange ink drawing depicting a great dragon, holding its own heart in its claws, extending it out as if he was handing it to someone else. "If you remove the heart of the White Dragon, then he must surely die!" Shizi said with an excited flourish.

Pang leaned forward and looked closer at the painting. "Are you sure? He is holding his own heart, but he is not dead in the picture."

"Read the script!" He pointed a thick, calloused finger toward the calligraphy at the bottom of the scroll. It seemed that the scroll had suffered some damage, and the ink had been smeared, making the fine print difficult to decipher. It was a poem of some sort, but only the last line was legible. "For the soul of the immortal dragon resides in his heart, without his heart, he is no more."

"And tell me," Pang said solemnly, "What ordinary mortal man can remove the heart of a dragon?"

Lord Shizi thumped himself in the chest. "Am I an ordinary man? I am a great hero!" He raised his voice even louder, making the servants cringe away from him in fear.

Leaning back, Pang pulled the lapels of his robe together, his brow knitted as he found the right words to say to Lord Shizi. "I treasure your life more than victory, my Lord. So please only hear my words in service to your honor and your wellbeing," he said carefully, dipping his head in respect, "You were a great hero, my friend. But these days you are getting old."